a personal approach to academic writing
COLLEGE
WRITING
COLLEGE
WRITING
A Personal Approach
to Academic Writing
Third Edition
Toby Fulwiler
Boynton/Cook Publishers, Inc.
HEINEMANN
Portsmouth, NH
Boynton/Cook Publishers, Inc.
A subsidiary of Reed Elsevier Inc.
361 Hanover Street
Portsmouth, NH 03801–3912
www.boyntoncook.com
Offices and agents throughout the world
© 1988, 1991, 1997, 2002 by Toby Fulwiler
1988 edition first published by Scott, Foresman and Company under the title College
Writing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems,
without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may
quote brief passages in a review.
The author and publisher thank those who generously gave permission to reprint
borrowed material:
“Buffalo Bill’s.” Copyright 1923, 1951, © 1991 by the Trustees for the E. E. Cummings
Trust. Copyright © 1976 by George James Firmage, from Complete Poems: 1904–
1962 by E. E. Cummings, edited by George J. Firmage. Used by permission of
Liveright Publishing Corporation.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Fulwiler, Toby, 1942–
College writing : a personal approach to academic writing / Toby
Fulwiler.—3rd ed.
p. cm.
Includes index.
ISBN 0-86709-523-7 (acid-free paper)
1. English language—Rhetoric. 2. Academic writing—Problems,
exercises, etc. I. Title.
PE1408 .F8 2002
808⬘.042—dc21
2001043585
Acquisitions editor: Lisa Luedeke
Production editor: Elizabeth Valway
Typesetter: TNT
Cover designer: Linda Knowles
Manufacturing: Louise Richardson
Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper
06 05 04 03 02 VP 1 2 3 4 5
Contents
Section I
The Writer
1
2
3
4
1
A Writer’s Choices
3
The Composing Process
15
Thinking with Writing
25
Keeping a Journal
41
Section II College Writing
5
6
7
8
Writing
Writing
Writing
Writing
53
in the Academic Community
55
to Remember and Reflect
64
to Explain and Report
83
to Argue and Interpret
98
Section III College Research
113
9 Researching People and Places
10 Researching Texts:
Libraries and Web Sites
123
11 Writing with Sources
134
12 Documenting Research Sources
Section IV
Writing Well
115
145
165
13 Options for Revision
14 Options for Editing
167
178
v
vi
Contents
15 Writing Alternate Style
16 Finding Your Voice
185
198
Postscript One: Guidelines for Writing
Groups
209
Postscript Two: Guidelines for Writing
Portfolios
213
Postscript Three: Guidelines for Publishing
Class Books and Web Pages
218
Postscript Four: Guidelines for Writing Essay
Examinations
224
Postscript Five: Guidelines for
Punctuation
228
Index
235
Section I
THE WRITER
Chapter One
A WRITER’S CHOICES
The reason, I think, I wait until the night before the paper
is due, is that then I don’t have any choice and the problem goes away. I mean, I stop thinking about all the
choices I could make, about where to start and what to
say, and I just start writing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
—Sarah
The number of choices writers must make in composing even short
papers is sometimes daunting—no wonder Sarah wants to write and not
choose. But in truth, I think she’s fooling herself: All writing, whether
started early or late, teacher-assigned or self-assigned, involves making
choices—an infinite number of choices—about topics, approaches,
stances, claims, evidence, order, words, sentences, paragraphs, tone, voice,
style, titles, beginnings, middles, endings, what to include, what to omit,
and the list goes on.
There are, however, some things you can do to simplify this choicemaking process and make it less daunting, more approachable. Whenever
you sit down to write, ask yourself three basic questions: Why am I writing? Under what conditions and constraints? To whom? In other words,
your purpose, situation, and audience determine the tone, style, and form
of your writing.
If you’re ever stuck for how to approach a writing assignment, or if
you’re blocked about what next to do, stop and reconsider which condition seems to be the sticking point:
3
4
A Writer’s Choices
Is your purpose for doing the writing clear? Can you explain it in a
sentence or two?
What are the circumstances in which this writing is taking place?
Can you identify the social or cultural milieu in which the writing
takes place?
Do you know and understand your audience? Can you articulate
what your audience wants or expects?
The remainder of this chapter will examine each of these questions in
more detail.
PURPOSE
Your explicit or stated reason for writing is your purpose: Why are you
writing in the first place? What do you hope your words will accomplish?
In college, the general purpose is usually specified by the assignment: to
explain, report, analyze, argue, interpret, reflect, and so on. Most papers
will include secondary purposes as well; for example, an effective argument paper may also need explaining, defining, describing, and narrating
to help advance the argument. If you know why you are writing, your writing is bound to be clearer than if you don’t. This doesn’t mean you need to
know exactly what your paper will say, how it will be shaped, or how it
will conclude, but it does mean that when you sit down to write it helps to
know why you are doing so.
The rhetorical purpose of most writing is persuasive: you want to
make your reader believe that what you say is true. However, different
kinds of writing convey truth in different ways. If your purpose is to explain, report, define, or describe, then your language is most effective
when it is clear, direct, unbiased, and neutral in tone. However, if your intention is to argue or interpret, then your language may need to be different. If you know your purpose but are not sure which form, style, or tone
best suits it, study the published writing of professionals and examine
how they choose language to create one or another effect.
College writing is usually done in response to specific instructor assignments—which implies that your instructor has a purpose in asking
you to write. If you want your writing to be strong and effective, you need
to find a valid purpose of your own for writing. In other words, you need
to make it worth your while to invest a portion of your life in thinking
about, researching, and writing this particular paper. So, within the limits
of the assignment, select the aspect which most genuinely interests you,
the aspect that will make you grow and change in directions you want to
change in. For example, if you are asked to select an author to review or
critique, select one you care about; if asked to research an issue, select
Purpose
5
one about which you have concerns, not necessarily the first that comes
to mind. If neither author nor research issue comes to mind, do enough
preliminary reading and research to allow you to choose well, or to allow
your interest to kick in and let the topic choose you. Go with your interest
and curiosity. Avoid selecting a topic just because it’s easy, handy, or comfortable. Once you purposefully select a topic, you begin to take over and
own the assignment and increase your chances of writing well about it.
As I’ve just implied, part of the purpose includes the subject and
topic. The subject is the general area that you’re interested in learning
more about. For example, all of these would be considered subjects: American literature, American literature in the 1920s, New York City authors,
the Harlem Renaissance, Jean Toomer, Cane. Even though the subject
Cane (the title of a collection of short stories by Jean Toomer) is far more
specific than the subject American literature, it’s still only a subject until
you decide what about Cane you want to explore and write about—until
you decide upon your topic in relation to Cane: perhaps a difficulty in one
particular story in the collection, a theme running through several stories,
or its relationship to other Harlem Renaissance works.
The general subject of a college paper could be a concept, event,
text, experiment, period, place, or person that you need to identify, define,
explain, illustrate, and perhaps reference—in a logical order, conventionally and correctly (see Chapter Fifteen, “Writing Alternate Style,”for exceptions). Many college papers ask that you treat the assigned subject as thoroughly as possible, privileging facts, citing sources, and downplaying your
writer’s presence.
Learn your subject well before you write about it; if you can’t, learn
it while you write. In either case, learn it. To my own students I say: plan
to become the most knowledgeable person in class on this subject; know
it backward and forward. Above all else, know it well beyond common
knowledge, hearsay, and cliché. If it’s a concept like postmodern, know
the definition, the explanations, the rationales, the antecedents, and the
references, so you can explain and use the term correctly. If it’s an event
such as the Crimean War, know the causes, outcomes, dates, geography,
and the major players. If it’s a text, know author(s), title, date of publication, genre, table of contents, themes, and perhaps the historical, cultural,
social, and political contexts surrounding its publication. Then write
about a specific topic within this subject area that you are now somewhat
of an expert on. The following suggestions will help you think about your
purpose for writing:
• Attend closely to the subject words of your assignments. If limited
to the Harlem Renaissance, make sure you know what that literary
period is, who belonged to it, and the titles of their books.
• Attend closely to the direction words of all your assignments. Be
6
A Writer’s Choices
aware that being asked to argue or interpret is different from being asked to define or explain—though, to argue or interpret well
may also require some defining or explaining along the way.
• Notice the subjects to which your mind turns when jogging, driving, biking, working out, walking, or just relaxing. Will any of your
assignments let you explore one of them further?
SITUATION
The subjects of college papers don’t exist in isolation. The environment,
setting, or circumstance in which you write influences your approach to
each writing task. The general setting that dictates college writing is educational and academic, though more particular circumstances will surround each specific assignment. For example, each assignment will be affected to some extent by the specific disciplinary expectations of a given
college, course, and grade level, so that if you want to write a given paper
successfully, it’s your job to identify these. Are the expectations at a college of Arts and Sciences any different from those at the colleges of Business, Engineering, Agriculture, or Education? What conventions govern
the writing in English courses and how are they different from those that
govern sociology, art, or nursing? What assumptions can you make if enrolled in an advanced class versus an introductory class?
You already know that writing in college, like writing in secondary
school, will be evaluated, which puts additional constraints on every act
of writing you perform. Consequently, your writing, while displaying disciplinary knowledge, must be clear, correct, typed, and completed on time.
Be aware that in your physical absence, your writing speaks for you, allowing others to judge not only your knowledge, but other intellectual habits,
such as your general level of literacy (how critically you read, how articulately you make an argument), your personal discipline (the level of precision with which the paper meets all requirements), your reasoning ability (does your approach demonstrate intelligence, thoughtfulness?), and
possibly your creativity (is your approach original, imaginative?). In other
words, every piece of writing conveys tacit, between-the-lines information
about the writer, as well as the explicit information the assignment calls
for. (For more information on the academic community, see Chapter Five.)
Therefore, as you are writing consider the following:
• Know who you are. Be aware that your writing may reflect your
gender, race, ethnic identity, political or religious affiliation, social
class, educational background, and regional upbringing. Read your
writing and notice where these personal biases emerge; noticing
them gives you more control, and allows you to change, delete, or
strengthen them—depending upon your purpose.
Audience
7
• Know where you are. Be aware of the ideas and expectations that
characterize your college, discipline, department, course, instructor, and grade level. If you know this context, you can better shape
your writing to meet or question it.
• Negotiate. In each act of writing, attempt to figure out how much
of you and your beliefs to present versus how many institutional
constraints to consider. Know that every time you write you must
mediate between the world you bring to the writing and the
world in which the writing will be read.
AUDIENCE
Most of us would agree that talking is easier than writing. For one thing,
most of us talk more often than we write—usually many times in the
course of a single day—and so get more practice. For another, we get more
help from people to whom we speak face to face than from those to
whom we write. We see by their facial expressions whether or not listeners understand us, need more or less information, or are pleased with our
words. Our own facial and body expressions help us communicate as well.
Finally, our listening audiences tend to be more tolerant of the way we
talk than our reading audiences are of the way we write: nobody sees my
spelling or punctuation when I talk, and nobody calls me on the carpet
when, in casual conversation, I miss an occasional noun-verb agreement
or utter fragment sentences.
However, writing does certain things better than speaking. If you
miswrite, you can always rewrite and catch your mistake before someone
else notices it. If you need to develop a complex argument, writing affords
you the time and space to do so. If you want your words to have the force
of law, writing makes a permanent record to be reread and studied in your
absence. And if you want to maintain a certain tone or coolness of demeanor, this can be accomplished more easily in writing than in face-toface confrontations.
Perhaps the greatest problem for writers, at least on the conscious
level, concerns the audience who will read their writing: What do they already know? What will they be looking for? What are their biases, values,
and assumptions? How can I make sure they understand me as I intend for
them to? College instructors are the most common audience for college
writing; they make the assignments and read and evaluate the results. Instructors make especially difficult audiences because they are experts in
their subject and commonly know more about it than you do. Though you
may also write for other audiences such as yourself or classmates, your primary college audience remains the instructor who made the assignment.
The remainder of this chapter will examine the nature of the audiences
for whom you most commonly write in academic settings.
8
A Writer’s Choices
Writing for Teachers
When you are a student in high school, college, or graduate school, your
most common audiences are the instructors who have requested written
assignments and who will read and grade what you produce, an especially tough audience for most students.
First, teachers often make writing assignments with the specific intention to measure and grade you on the basis of what you write. Second,
teachers often think it their civic duty to correct every language mistake
you make, no matter how small. Third, teachers often ask you to write
about subjects you have no particular interest in—or worse, to write
about their favorite topics! Finally, teachers usually know more about
the subject of your paper than you do because they are the experts in the
field, which puts you in a difficult spot: You end up writing to prove how
much you know more than to share something new with them.
You can’t do much about the fact that teachers will use your writing to evaluate you in one way or another—they view it as part of their
job, just as they do when making assignments for your own good (but not
necessarily interest). However, as an individual writer, you can make
choices that will influence this difficult audience positively—especially if
you understand that most of your instructors are fundamentally caring
people.
In the best circumstances, teachers will make writing assignments
that give you a good start. They do this when they make clear their expectations for each assignment, when they provide sufficient time for
you to accomplish the assignment, when they give you positive and
pointed feedback while you are writing, and when they evaluate your papers according to criteria you both understand and agree with.
But regardless of how helpful you find your teacher, at some point
you have to plan and write the paper using the best resources you can
muster. Even before you begin to write—or as you think about the assignment—you can make some important mental decisions that will make
your actual drafting of most assignments easier:
1. Read the assignment directions carefully before you begin to
write. Pay particular attention to instruction words such as explain, define, or evaluate—terms that mean something quite different from one another. (See Chapter Eight for more information
on instruction words.) Most of the time when teachers develop
their assignments, they are looking to see not only that you can
demonstrate what you know, think logically, and write clearly,
they also want to see if you can follow directions.
2. Convince yourself that you are interested in writing this assignment. It’s better, of course, if you really are interested in writing
Audience
3.
4.
5.
6.
9
about Moby-Dick, the War of 1812, or photosynthesis, but sometimes this isn’t the case. If not, you’ve got to practice some
psychology on yourself because it’s difficult to write well when
you are bored. Use whatever strategies usually work for you,
but if those fail, try this: Locate the most popular treatment of
the subject you can find, perhaps in a current newsstand, the
Reader’s Guide to Periodical Literature, or the World Wide Web.
Find out what has made this subject newsworthy. Tell a friend
about it (Did you know that . . . ?). Write in your journal about
it, and see what kind of questions you can generate. There is a
good chance that this forced engagement will lead to the real
thing.
Make the assignment your own: Recast the paper topic in your
own words; reduce the size/scope of the topic to something manageable; or relate it to an issue with which you are already familiar. Modifying a writing task into something both interesting and
manageable dramatically increases your chances of making the
writing less superficial because you’re not biting off more than
you can chew and because the reader will read caring and commitment between the lines.
Try to teach your readers something. At the least, try to communicate with them. Seeing your task as instructional puts you in the
driver’s seat and gets you out of the passive mode of writing to
fulfill somebody else’s expectations. In truth, teachers are delighted when a student paper teaches them something they
didn’t already know; it breaks the boredom of reading papers that
are simple regurgitations of course information.
Look for a different slant. Teachers get tired of the same approach
to every assignment, so, if you are able, approach your topic from
an unpredictable angle. Be sure you cover all the necessary territory that you would if you wrote a more predictable paper, but
hold your reader’s attention by viewing the terrain somehow differently: locating the thesis in Moby-Dick from the whale’s point
of view; explaining the War of 1812 through a series of dispatches to the London Times from a British war correspondent;
describing photosynthesis through a series of simulated field
notebooks. (I provide these examples only to allude to what may
be possible; teacher, subject, and context will give you safer
guidelines.)
Consider your paper as a problem in need of a solution, or a question in need of an answer. The best way to start may be to try to
write out in one sentence what the problem or question actually is, and to continue with this method as more information
begins to reshape your initial formulation. For example, the
10
A Writer’s Choices
question behind this section is: What is the role of audience in
writing? The section itself is an attempt to answer this. (The advice my high school math teacher gave to help solve equations
may be helpful here: What am I given? What do I need to know?)
Approaching it this way may help you limit the topic, keep your
focus as you both research and write, and find both a thesis and a
conclusion.
7. View the paper topic from your teacher’s perspective. Ask yourself how completing this paper helps further course goals. Is it
strictly an extra-credit project in which anything goes? Or does
the paper’s completion also complete your understanding of the
course?
Each of these ideas suggests that you can do certain things psychologically to set up and gain control of your writing from the outset. Sometimes none of these suggestions will work, and the whole process will simply be a struggle; it happens to me in my writing more often than I care to
recount. But often one or two of these ideas will help you get started in
the right direction. In addition, it helps to consult the teacher with some
of your emerging ideas. Because the teacher made the assignment, he or
she can best comment on the appropriateness of your choices.
Writing for Classmates
Next to the teacher, your most probable school audience is your peers.
More and more teachers are finding value in asking students to read each
other’s writing, both in draft stages and in final form. You will most likely
be asked to share your writing with other students in a writing class,
where both composing and critiquing papers are everybody’s business.
Don’t be surprised if your history or biology teacher asks you to do the
same thing. But you could initiate such sharing yourself, regardless of
whether your teacher suggests it. The benefits will be worth it.
Writing to other students and reading their work is distinctly different from simply talking to each other; written communication demands
a precision and clarity that oral communication does not. When you share
your writing with a peer, you will be most aware of where your language
is pretentious or your argument stretched too thin. If you ask for feedback, an honest classmate will give it to you—before your teacher has to.
I think that students see pomp and padding as readily as teachers do and
are equally put off by it. What’s the point in writing pretentiously to a
classmate?
The following are some of the possible ways to make sharing drafts
profitable:
Audience
11
1. Choose people you trust and respect to read your draft. Offer to
read theirs in return. Set aside enough time (over coffee in the
snack bar?) to return drafts and explain your responses thoroughly to each other.
2. When possible, you decide when your draft is ready to share. I
don’t want someone to see a draft too early because I already
know how I am going to continue to fix it; other times, when I
am far along in the process, I don’t want a response that suggests that I start all over. There’s a balance here: it’s better that I
seek help on the draft before I become too fond of it, when I tend
to get defensive and to resist good ideas that might otherwise
help me.
3. Ask for specific responses on early drafts. Do you want an overall
reaction? Do you have a question about a specific section of your
paper? Do you want help with a particularly intricate argument?
Do you want simple editing or proofreading help? When you
share a draft and specify the help you want, you stay in control
of the process and lessen the risk that your readers will say something about your text that could make you defensive. (I’m very
thin-skinned about my writing—I could lose confidence fast if I
shared my writing with nonsupportive people who said anything
they felt like about my work.)
4. When you comment on someone else’s paper, use a pencil and be
gentle. Remember how you feel about red ink (bad associations
offset the advantages of the contrasting color), and remember
that ink is permanent. Most writers can’t help but see their writing as an extension of themselves. Writing in erasable pencil suggests rather than commands that changes might rather than
must be made. The choice to do so remains where it should, with
the writer rather than the reader.
5. Ask a friend with good language skills to proofread your paper before submission. Most readers can identify problems in
correctness, clarity, and meaning more easily in another person’s
work than in their own. When students read and respond to (or
critique) each other’s writing, they learn to identify problems in
style, punctuation, and evidence that also may occur in their own
writing.
Writing for Publication
Writing for publication is something you may not have to do while you’re
still in school. Conversely, you may have already done so in letters to
the newspaper editor or articles for a school paper. However, you may
12
A Writer’s Choices
have a teacher who wants you to experience writing for an audience that
doesn’t know who you are, as when class papers are posted on the Web.
When you write for an absent audience, there are a few things to keep in
mind:
1. Assume ignorance unless you know otherwise. If you assume
your audience knows little or nothing about what you are writing, you will be more likely to give full explanations of terms, concepts, and acronyms. Because you will never know exactly into
whose hands your published piece will fall, it’s always better to
over- than to under-explain. (This suggestion, of course, is also a
good one to use for known academic audiences. The cost of elaborating is your time. The cost of assuming too much will be a
lower grade.)
2. Provide a full context that makes it clear why you are writing. This is true in books, articles, reviews, and letters to the editor. You can often do this in a few sentences early in your piece,
or you can provide a footnote or endnote. Again, no harm is done
if you provide a little extra information, but there is a real loss to
your reader if you provide too little information.
3. Examine the tone, style, and format of the publisher before you
send your manuscript. You can learn a lot about the voice to
assume—or avoid—by looking at the nature of other pieces
printed in a publication.
4. Use the clearest and simplest language you can. I would not try
overly hard to sound erudite, urbane, or worldly; too often the result is pretension, pomposity, or confusion. Instead, let your most
comfortable voice work for you, and you’ll increase your chances
of genuinely communicating with your reader.
5. If you are worried about having your manuscript accepted by a
publisher, send a letter of inquiry to see what kind of encouragement the editor gives you. This gives you a better indication of
what the editor wants; it also familiarizes him or her with your
name, increasing your chances of a good reading.
Writing for Yourself
When you write strictly for yourself, your focus is primarily on your own
thoughts and emotions—you don’t need to follow any guidelines or rules
at all, except those that you choose to impose. In shopping lists, journals,
diaries, appointment books, class notebooks, text margin notes, and so on,
you are your own audience, and you don’t need to be especially careful,
organized, neat, or correct so long as you understand it yourself.
Audience
13
However, keep in mind your own intended purpose here: a shopping list only needs to be clear until the groceries are in, probably the
same day; however, many of these other personal forms may have future
uses that warrant a certain amount of clarity when your memory no longer serves. When checking your appointment book, it helps if planning
notes include names, times, and places you can clearly find six days later.
When reviewing class notebooks, it’s nice to be able to make sense of class
notes taken six weeks ago; when reading a diary or journal written six
years ago, you will be glad you included clarifying details.
Even when writing for the other audiences described in this chapter,
audiences carefully hypothesized or imagined in your head, you will write
better if you are pleased with your text. Your first audience, at least for important writing, must always be yourself. If the tone strikes you as just the
right blend of serious and comic, if the rhythms please your ear when read
aloud, and if the arguments strike you as elegant and the title as clever,
then your audience will more than likely feel the same.
SUGGESTIONS FOR JOURNAL WRITING
1. Think about the last paper you wrote. Describe any problems you
remember having to solve about purpose, situation, and audience.
2. For whom do you write most often, a friend? a parent? a teacher?
yourself? How do you write differently to this person than to somebody else?
3. Who was the toughest audience for whom you have ever had to
write? What made him or her so difficult? Would that still be true
today?
SUGGESTIONS FOR ESSAY WRITING
1. Write a short paper or letter that you shape to three distinctly different audiences. (Make these real so that you actually keep an individual in mind as you write.) Sandwich these three papers in between an introduction and a conclusion in which you explain
something interesting that you notice about writing to these different people.
2. Choose one assignment that you have already completed in one of
your classes. Reshape it as a short article for your school newspaper.
Before you do this, make observations in your journal about what
changes you intended to make and, after completing it, what
changes you actually did make.
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A Writer’s Choices
SUGGESTIONS FOR RESEARCH PROJECTS
1. INDIVIDUAL: Interview an instructor or other published writer in
your community and ask questions about how he or she solves composing problems. Transcribe this interview and share with classmates.
2. COLLABORATIVE: As a class, select a topic about which you would
like to know something more. Locate one or two sources of information (from the library or other people) and take good notes. As a
class, identify as many different possible audiences as you can think
of until the number of audiences equals the number of students in
class. Write one per slip of paper and place in a hat and let each
student draw an audience out of a hat. Each now write a paragraph
to the audience drawn making the information relevant to that particular audience. (Results could be read and evaluated by playing the
same game in reverse, with different students role-playing these different audiences for each other.)
Chapter Two
THE COMPOSING PROCESS
I start by writing down anything that comes to mind. I
write the paper as one big mass, kind of like freewriting.
Then I rewrite it into sentences. I keep rewriting it until it
finally takes some form.
—Brady
If I have the time before I begin to write (which I usually
don’t) I make an outline so I have something to follow. An
outline kind of gives me a guide to fall back on in case I
get stuck.
—Jennifer
Then I start in the middle because it’s easier than trying to
figure out where to start. The ending is easy because all
you do is repeat what you just said. After the middle and
the end, I try to write the beginning.
—Pat
Everybody writes a little differently from everybody else. Brady starts fast,
Jennifer outlines (when she has time), and Pat starts in the middle because
the beginning needs to be written last. Whose way is best? Trick question.
Whatever works best for you is the best way. However, experienced writers can teach us all a few tricks and perhaps make our best ways even
better. The next few pages outline a composing process that roughly describes the way many writers complete a piece of writing. This process
15
16
The Composing Process
includes several distinct phases, from exploring and researching ideas to
drafting, revising, and editing them—and perhaps publishing them to the
world.
While writing is never effortless, if you understand this messy, unpredictable, and amazing process, you will be a little less hard on yourself
when it doesn’t come out just right the first time. After more than thirty
years of trying to help people write better, I am convinced that some ways
of writing work for more people on more occasions than do others. Yes,
writing is a complex, variable, multifaceted process that refuses foolproof
formulations. Still, people have been writing since the dawn of recorded
history (the invention of writing IS the dawn of recorded history!), some
3,000 years, and during that time some habits and strategies have proved
more helpful than others. Learning what these are may save some time,
grief, energy, or perhaps all three.
EXPLORING
The earliest phases of writing are often explorations. In fact, writing is the
thinker’s way of exploring the world, inside and out. If you want to write
something—an assigned paper, a story for yourself—and you turn on your
computer or pick up a pen, you really can have it both ways, since writing
starts from ideas, and ideas start from writing. When you write, you explore your memory, texts, neighborhoods, the news, the Internet, and the
library. We could call this first phase of the composing process by many
different names, such as planning, inventing, discovering, or trying out, but
for our purposes here, exploring will work: you’ll know what I mean.
Writers explore topics and approaches to topics when they make
notes, start lists, generate outlines, write journal entries, and compose
rough drafts. They also discuss, E-mail, telephone, visit, and consult with
others. And they also explore less deliberately when they walk, jog, eat,
read, and wake up in the middle of the night thinking. The following sections treat, in detail, different ideas about exploring.
Write to Yourself
Forget about publishing your ideas to the world; publish them first to
yourself. Tell yourself what you’re thinking. Write out what’s on your
mind. Write it down and you’ll identify it, understand it, and leave behind a
memory of what it was. Any writing task can be accomplished in more
than one way, but the greatest gain will occur if you articulate in writing
these possibilities. Exploring also involves limiting your options, locating the best strategy for the occasion at hand, and focusing energy in the
most productive direction. It doesn’t matter if you make outlines or lists,
Drafting
17
freewrite or draw maps, or do these activities freehand or with a computer. What does seem to matter is getting the ideas out of your head in a
tangible way so you can look at them, see what they are and where else
they could go. My own most common way of finding and exploring an
idea is writing in my journal (see Chapter Four).
Plan to Plan
If you plan to explore a little before you actually start writing, the odds
are that in the long run, your writing will go better, be more directed,
purposeful, and efficient. Finding ideas is a back-and-forth process—it
starts in one place, ends up in another, and goes on all the time—so long
as you keep writing. This whole messy process can be both wonderful
and exhausting. Remember that when you are in the planning stages of
any writing task, finding and exploring ideas counts more than making
them neat or correct. Most commonly, I plan to plan by writing in my journal or on my computer for some small period of time almost every day.
I make planning a habit.
Move Back and Forth
While exploration comes first, it also comes second, third, and so on, for
as long as you keep working. No matter how carefully considered your
first ideas, the act of writing usually generates even better ones, all the
way through the writing process, as you think about why you are writing,
about what, and for whom. For example, when the purpose for writing is
vague, as it may be when someone else makes an assignment, you may
write to discover or clarify your purpose. (What is this assignment really
about, anyway?) When you want to communicate to someone else, but
aren’t sure how you’ll be received, try several different versions and figure
out for yourself which works best. When I return to revise a chapter draft,
I always explore and test the whole draft all over again, no matter how
finished I thought it was the last time I wrote.
DRAFTING
When I draft, I try to establish direction, the main form of the argument or
story, and some sense of beginning, middle, and end. When I revise, I pay
attention to getting the whole paper just right: organizing the material,
supporting my statements, getting down essentially what I want to say.
When I edit, I pay attention to the smaller details of writing, to getting the
particular sentences and words just right, working on matters of style, precision, diction, and correct documentation.
18
The Composing Process
Start Writing to Start Writing
Write your way to motivation, knowledge, and thesis. No matter what your
subject, use language to find out more about it. What do you already know
about it? What do you believe? Why do you care? (Or why don’t you?)
Where could you find more information? This writing will help in two
ways: First, it will cause you to think connected thoughts about the subject
for a sustained period of time, a far more powerful, positive, and predictable process than staring at the ceiling or falling asleep worrying about
it. Second, it will create a written record from which to conduct further
digs into your subject and to prompt your memory and help you continue
a thought. (I keep such records in my journal, others keep them on index
cards or in pocket notebooks. It doesn’t matter where; what matters is
keeping them.)
Make an Outline and Promise Yourself Not to Stick to It
Outlines are helpful as starters and prompters, but they are harmful if they
prevent further growth or new directions in your draft. I don’t always use
outlines when I write, especially on short projects, trusting instead that I
can hold my focus by a combination of private incubation and constant rereading of the text before me. When I do outline, what proves most helpful is the very process of generating the outline in the first place. If it’s a
good outline, I quickly internalize its main features and go from there. I seldom stick religiously to the formal method of outlining taught me in seventh grade, but like many writers before me, I find an outline useful to fall
back on when I get stuck. When I do make a detailed outline, I find it easier to see coordinate and subordinate relationships in my project, although I usually discover these after I’ve been writing a while and not in
my initial outline. The alternation of writing/outlining/writing/outlining
often works well because both the outlining and the writing are acts of
discovery for me.
Plan to Throw Your First Page Away
Once you actually begin to compose a draft, don’t lock yourself into keeping the first words you produce. In fact, it may be helpful to deliberately
view each first paragraph or page as a throwaway. The absolutely worst
part of writing for me is starting, staring at a blank page or monitor. If I can
just get some words down, the task looks started, and I relax a bit. Once I
start, my words come a lot easier. I shift from the slow first gear into progressively higher gears as my thoughts begin to accelerate. When this happens, my writing not only comes more easily, it’s better writing. In this
Researching
19
sense, I agree with Brady (above), who started out fast to create an initial
mess to refine later.
Learn to Write with a Word Processor
Word processors make writing easier, primarily by allowing you to write
words electronically on a screen before you print them out in ink on
paper. The advantage is that you can move language around as you see fit,
until it is just right. Because I rewrite virtually everything (except notes
and journal entries), word processors allow my writing to be more careful,
organized, and precise than on lined pads of paper. If you use a word processor, try to get in the habit of composing first drafts on the screen; that
will save you a lot of time in the long run and help you to see your first
draft as primarily experimental.
RESEARCHING
When you write, you need content as well as direction. Unless you are
writing completely from memory, you need to locate ideas and information from which to start and, later on, with which to support and convince. Remember, you essentially do research whenever you pose questions and then go looking for answers. It’s virtually impossible to write a
decent critical, analytical, or argumentative paper without doing some
research and reporting it accurately. Even personal and reflective essays
can benefit by finding additional factual information (journal entries,
photographs, interviews) to substantiate and intensify what you remember. In other words, research is a natural part of most people’s writing process—and like exploration it happens at all stages of the process, from first
to last.
Newspaper and television reporters conduct research when they
investigate background sources for a story on political, economic, or social
issues. Historians, philosophers, and lawyers research in texts to locate
past records, data, and precedents. Scientists, engineers, physicians, and
psychologists research in laboratories to find new answers to puzzling
questions. Sociologists, anthropologists, political scientists, educators, and
social workers research in communities, neighborhoods, and schools to
find practical answers to difficult questions. In every case, these researchers report their findings in writing. It may be time for you to begin to think
this way, too.
Research Texts
You do a form of research every time you write analyses or interpretations
of texts—reading and rereading is the research. You also research when
20
The Composing Process
you compare one text to another or track down the dates of this or that
historical event in encyclopedias, dictionaries, and reference works. And
you do text-based research when you scan a CD-ROM disk or log onto the
Internet—your textual and graphical printouts become useful, hard data.
When you use text-based research carefully (and here I don’t mean stringing together a bunch of quotes because they’re handy) you add a whole
extra dimension of credibility to whatever you are writing about. When
you add strong quotations from named sources, you also add life and energy to your writing.
Research Sites
You can do observational and experimental research in chemistry and
physics laboratories, and on geology and biology field trips. Any place that
you visit is a potential research site, capable of providing information and
evidence to use in your writing: museums, galleries, concert halls, stadiums, college offices, professional buildings, corporate headquarters, industrial plants, lakefront developments, junkyards, local malls—the list is endless. In writing a paper on lake pollution, go to the lake, describe the water,
the shoreline, the activities you see there; in writing about your summer
experience working at Dunkin’ Donuts, go to the nearest store and take
notes on details you may have forgotten. (For more information on research techniques, see Chapters Nine–Twelve.)
REVISING
Plan to rewrite everything, more than once. Good writing is rewriting,
reseeing your first words and determining whether or not they do the job
you want them to do. The more drafts you are able to manage, the better
your final piece is likely to be. If you’ve got a week to do a given assignment, start something in writing the first night and see where it goes; plan
to reread and return to it as often as time allows. If you compose in longhand, write in pencil, double space, on only one side of lined paper—this
lets you add and subtract from your initial draft with a minimum of recopying, and allows you to cut out and move around whole portions of
your text.
Attend First to the Larger Problems
Thesis, organization, and support should be rethought first. It’s simply
more efficient to spend time getting your whole paper in order before
you turn your attention to the somewhat smaller matters of style. It’s
Editing
21
more efficient because you don’t want to perfect sentences and paragraphs that will be deleted in a later revision.
Write Your Introduction Last
Here I agree with Pat (above), who plans to start in the middle. Of course,
if you are able to introduce your piece before you write it, do so. But if
you have been finding new ideas and combinations of ideas as you’ve
been going along, it’s unlikely that any introduction written first will still
do the job. I often try to write introductions first, to point me in a certain
direction, but by the time I’m finished, I always need to write new ones.
Seek a Response to Your Writing
Once you have written a passable draft, one you feel is on the right track
but not finished, ask a classmate or friend to read and respond to it. Specify the kind of feedback that would be most helpful. Does the argument
hold up throughout the whole paper? Do I use too many examples?
Which ones should I cut? Does my conclusion make sense? Sometimes,
when I am quite pleased with my draft, I simply ask a friend to proofread it
for me, not wanting at that point to be told about holes in my argument or
redundancy in my text.
EDITING
To finish well, you edit. You edit in the later stages of writing to recheck
your whole text, to make sure it reads as you intend it to read. You want
to see that everything works, from the clarity of ideas to the logic of the
paragraphs, the vitality of sentences, the precision of words, and the correctness and accuracy of everything, from facts and references to spelling
and punctuation. Whether you have written three, five, or ten drafts, it’s
the last one you want to be perfect—or as near perfect as possible. Many
writers edit first to please themselves; at the same time, they always edit
for readers—for some imagined but distant audience—hoping to please
them as well.
While it makes more rational sense to edit after you have composed
and revised and dealt with larger conceptual issues, in my own composing
I often violate that step and edit as I go, working a sentence or paragraph
over and over until I get it just right, sometimes feeling as if I can’t move
on until I articulate a thought a certain way. I think computers, especially,
allow that easy blurring of the composing, revising, and editing processes.
Though I treat editing here as a later stage in writing, it matters less when
you do it than that you do it.
22
The Composing Process
Edit for Yourself
Make sure the voice, the beliefs, and the language are yours. Make sure,
first, that you sound right to you, so that you represent yourself honestly
and accurately. Then think about your intended readers, those that you
imagine will ask questions, frown, smile, read carefully, and understand.
When I write well, I can tell it before my audience lets me know.
Read Aloud
Ask of your phrases, sentences, and paragraphs, does this sound right,
natural, conversational? Does it sound like my voice? When I read aloud
this sentence or passage, is the rhythm pleasing to my ear? If not, what
word or words are out of tune? More than anything, I edit for rhythm so
my language sounds good to my ear.
Attend to Sentences
Ask of your sentence, is this the best way to state this idea or ask this question? Would another term or phrase be more appropriate or powerful or
accurate? Have I said what I mean as directly as I want to? Do my sentences end emphatically, with the strongest point at the end? Do I want
them to? Can I replace abstract nouns with concrete nouns? Can I replace
passive verbs with action verbs? Do all my words contribute toward my
meaning? Answering these questions is editing.
Write with Titles and Subtitles
Good titles help you view your writing as a whole, and good titles catch
readers’ attention, pique their curiosity, and describe what your writing is
about. Subtitles (subordinate titles, or subheadings) are words or phrases
that stand for a set of ideas or a section of a paper; write them in the
margins and let them help you structure your paper for both you and the
reader. Subtitles do two things at once: they serve as categorizers for concepts, and they operate as transitions from one concept to the next. I try
to do this as early as I can, but I find both the main title and the smaller
subsections most clearly when I revise. (You see that I use many subtitles
in this book. Are they helpful to you?)
Proofread
At the very end, just before your manuscript is handed in or mailed,
proofread the revised and edited pages to make sure there are no errors in spelling, punctuation (especially commas), noun/verb agreement,
Editing
23
paragraphing, typing, formatting, and the like. Use your computer spellchecker, read each line using a ruler, and share the writing with a trusted
friend. In addition, check to
WRITING
COLLEGE
WRITING
A Personal Approach
to Academic Writing
Third Edition
Toby Fulwiler
Boynton/Cook Publishers, Inc.
HEINEMANN
Portsmouth, NH
Boynton/Cook Publishers, Inc.
A subsidiary of Reed Elsevier Inc.
361 Hanover Street
Portsmouth, NH 03801–3912
www.boyntoncook.com
Offices and agents throughout the world
© 1988, 1991, 1997, 2002 by Toby Fulwiler
1988 edition first published by Scott, Foresman and Company under the title College
Writing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems,
without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may
quote brief passages in a review.
The author and publisher thank those who generously gave permission to reprint
borrowed material:
“Buffalo Bill’s.” Copyright 1923, 1951, © 1991 by the Trustees for the E. E. Cummings
Trust. Copyright © 1976 by George James Firmage, from Complete Poems: 1904–
1962 by E. E. Cummings, edited by George J. Firmage. Used by permission of
Liveright Publishing Corporation.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Fulwiler, Toby, 1942–
College writing : a personal approach to academic writing / Toby
Fulwiler.—3rd ed.
p. cm.
Includes index.
ISBN 0-86709-523-7 (acid-free paper)
1. English language—Rhetoric. 2. Academic writing—Problems,
exercises, etc. I. Title.
PE1408 .F8 2002
808⬘.042—dc21
2001043585
Acquisitions editor: Lisa Luedeke
Production editor: Elizabeth Valway
Typesetter: TNT
Cover designer: Linda Knowles
Manufacturing: Louise Richardson
Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper
06 05 04 03 02 VP 1 2 3 4 5
Contents
Section I
The Writer
1
2
3
4
1
A Writer’s Choices
3
The Composing Process
15
Thinking with Writing
25
Keeping a Journal
41
Section II College Writing
5
6
7
8
Writing
Writing
Writing
Writing
53
in the Academic Community
55
to Remember and Reflect
64
to Explain and Report
83
to Argue and Interpret
98
Section III College Research
113
9 Researching People and Places
10 Researching Texts:
Libraries and Web Sites
123
11 Writing with Sources
134
12 Documenting Research Sources
Section IV
Writing Well
115
145
165
13 Options for Revision
14 Options for Editing
167
178
v
vi
Contents
15 Writing Alternate Style
16 Finding Your Voice
185
198
Postscript One: Guidelines for Writing
Groups
209
Postscript Two: Guidelines for Writing
Portfolios
213
Postscript Three: Guidelines for Publishing
Class Books and Web Pages
218
Postscript Four: Guidelines for Writing Essay
Examinations
224
Postscript Five: Guidelines for
Punctuation
228
Index
235
Section I
THE WRITER
Chapter One
A WRITER’S CHOICES
The reason, I think, I wait until the night before the paper
is due, is that then I don’t have any choice and the problem goes away. I mean, I stop thinking about all the
choices I could make, about where to start and what to
say, and I just start writing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
—Sarah
The number of choices writers must make in composing even short
papers is sometimes daunting—no wonder Sarah wants to write and not
choose. But in truth, I think she’s fooling herself: All writing, whether
started early or late, teacher-assigned or self-assigned, involves making
choices—an infinite number of choices—about topics, approaches,
stances, claims, evidence, order, words, sentences, paragraphs, tone, voice,
style, titles, beginnings, middles, endings, what to include, what to omit,
and the list goes on.
There are, however, some things you can do to simplify this choicemaking process and make it less daunting, more approachable. Whenever
you sit down to write, ask yourself three basic questions: Why am I writing? Under what conditions and constraints? To whom? In other words,
your purpose, situation, and audience determine the tone, style, and form
of your writing.
If you’re ever stuck for how to approach a writing assignment, or if
you’re blocked about what next to do, stop and reconsider which condition seems to be the sticking point:
3
4
A Writer’s Choices
Is your purpose for doing the writing clear? Can you explain it in a
sentence or two?
What are the circumstances in which this writing is taking place?
Can you identify the social or cultural milieu in which the writing
takes place?
Do you know and understand your audience? Can you articulate
what your audience wants or expects?
The remainder of this chapter will examine each of these questions in
more detail.
PURPOSE
Your explicit or stated reason for writing is your purpose: Why are you
writing in the first place? What do you hope your words will accomplish?
In college, the general purpose is usually specified by the assignment: to
explain, report, analyze, argue, interpret, reflect, and so on. Most papers
will include secondary purposes as well; for example, an effective argument paper may also need explaining, defining, describing, and narrating
to help advance the argument. If you know why you are writing, your writing is bound to be clearer than if you don’t. This doesn’t mean you need to
know exactly what your paper will say, how it will be shaped, or how it
will conclude, but it does mean that when you sit down to write it helps to
know why you are doing so.
The rhetorical purpose of most writing is persuasive: you want to
make your reader believe that what you say is true. However, different
kinds of writing convey truth in different ways. If your purpose is to explain, report, define, or describe, then your language is most effective
when it is clear, direct, unbiased, and neutral in tone. However, if your intention is to argue or interpret, then your language may need to be different. If you know your purpose but are not sure which form, style, or tone
best suits it, study the published writing of professionals and examine
how they choose language to create one or another effect.
College writing is usually done in response to specific instructor assignments—which implies that your instructor has a purpose in asking
you to write. If you want your writing to be strong and effective, you need
to find a valid purpose of your own for writing. In other words, you need
to make it worth your while to invest a portion of your life in thinking
about, researching, and writing this particular paper. So, within the limits
of the assignment, select the aspect which most genuinely interests you,
the aspect that will make you grow and change in directions you want to
change in. For example, if you are asked to select an author to review or
critique, select one you care about; if asked to research an issue, select
Purpose
5
one about which you have concerns, not necessarily the first that comes
to mind. If neither author nor research issue comes to mind, do enough
preliminary reading and research to allow you to choose well, or to allow
your interest to kick in and let the topic choose you. Go with your interest
and curiosity. Avoid selecting a topic just because it’s easy, handy, or comfortable. Once you purposefully select a topic, you begin to take over and
own the assignment and increase your chances of writing well about it.
As I’ve just implied, part of the purpose includes the subject and
topic. The subject is the general area that you’re interested in learning
more about. For example, all of these would be considered subjects: American literature, American literature in the 1920s, New York City authors,
the Harlem Renaissance, Jean Toomer, Cane. Even though the subject
Cane (the title of a collection of short stories by Jean Toomer) is far more
specific than the subject American literature, it’s still only a subject until
you decide what about Cane you want to explore and write about—until
you decide upon your topic in relation to Cane: perhaps a difficulty in one
particular story in the collection, a theme running through several stories,
or its relationship to other Harlem Renaissance works.
The general subject of a college paper could be a concept, event,
text, experiment, period, place, or person that you need to identify, define,
explain, illustrate, and perhaps reference—in a logical order, conventionally and correctly (see Chapter Fifteen, “Writing Alternate Style,”for exceptions). Many college papers ask that you treat the assigned subject as thoroughly as possible, privileging facts, citing sources, and downplaying your
writer’s presence.
Learn your subject well before you write about it; if you can’t, learn
it while you write. In either case, learn it. To my own students I say: plan
to become the most knowledgeable person in class on this subject; know
it backward and forward. Above all else, know it well beyond common
knowledge, hearsay, and cliché. If it’s a concept like postmodern, know
the definition, the explanations, the rationales, the antecedents, and the
references, so you can explain and use the term correctly. If it’s an event
such as the Crimean War, know the causes, outcomes, dates, geography,
and the major players. If it’s a text, know author(s), title, date of publication, genre, table of contents, themes, and perhaps the historical, cultural,
social, and political contexts surrounding its publication. Then write
about a specific topic within this subject area that you are now somewhat
of an expert on. The following suggestions will help you think about your
purpose for writing:
• Attend closely to the subject words of your assignments. If limited
to the Harlem Renaissance, make sure you know what that literary
period is, who belonged to it, and the titles of their books.
• Attend closely to the direction words of all your assignments. Be
6
A Writer’s Choices
aware that being asked to argue or interpret is different from being asked to define or explain—though, to argue or interpret well
may also require some defining or explaining along the way.
• Notice the subjects to which your mind turns when jogging, driving, biking, working out, walking, or just relaxing. Will any of your
assignments let you explore one of them further?
SITUATION
The subjects of college papers don’t exist in isolation. The environment,
setting, or circumstance in which you write influences your approach to
each writing task. The general setting that dictates college writing is educational and academic, though more particular circumstances will surround each specific assignment. For example, each assignment will be affected to some extent by the specific disciplinary expectations of a given
college, course, and grade level, so that if you want to write a given paper
successfully, it’s your job to identify these. Are the expectations at a college of Arts and Sciences any different from those at the colleges of Business, Engineering, Agriculture, or Education? What conventions govern
the writing in English courses and how are they different from those that
govern sociology, art, or nursing? What assumptions can you make if enrolled in an advanced class versus an introductory class?
You already know that writing in college, like writing in secondary
school, will be evaluated, which puts additional constraints on every act
of writing you perform. Consequently, your writing, while displaying disciplinary knowledge, must be clear, correct, typed, and completed on time.
Be aware that in your physical absence, your writing speaks for you, allowing others to judge not only your knowledge, but other intellectual habits,
such as your general level of literacy (how critically you read, how articulately you make an argument), your personal discipline (the level of precision with which the paper meets all requirements), your reasoning ability (does your approach demonstrate intelligence, thoughtfulness?), and
possibly your creativity (is your approach original, imaginative?). In other
words, every piece of writing conveys tacit, between-the-lines information
about the writer, as well as the explicit information the assignment calls
for. (For more information on the academic community, see Chapter Five.)
Therefore, as you are writing consider the following:
• Know who you are. Be aware that your writing may reflect your
gender, race, ethnic identity, political or religious affiliation, social
class, educational background, and regional upbringing. Read your
writing and notice where these personal biases emerge; noticing
them gives you more control, and allows you to change, delete, or
strengthen them—depending upon your purpose.
Audience
7
• Know where you are. Be aware of the ideas and expectations that
characterize your college, discipline, department, course, instructor, and grade level. If you know this context, you can better shape
your writing to meet or question it.
• Negotiate. In each act of writing, attempt to figure out how much
of you and your beliefs to present versus how many institutional
constraints to consider. Know that every time you write you must
mediate between the world you bring to the writing and the
world in which the writing will be read.
AUDIENCE
Most of us would agree that talking is easier than writing. For one thing,
most of us talk more often than we write—usually many times in the
course of a single day—and so get more practice. For another, we get more
help from people to whom we speak face to face than from those to
whom we write. We see by their facial expressions whether or not listeners understand us, need more or less information, or are pleased with our
words. Our own facial and body expressions help us communicate as well.
Finally, our listening audiences tend to be more tolerant of the way we
talk than our reading audiences are of the way we write: nobody sees my
spelling or punctuation when I talk, and nobody calls me on the carpet
when, in casual conversation, I miss an occasional noun-verb agreement
or utter fragment sentences.
However, writing does certain things better than speaking. If you
miswrite, you can always rewrite and catch your mistake before someone
else notices it. If you need to develop a complex argument, writing affords
you the time and space to do so. If you want your words to have the force
of law, writing makes a permanent record to be reread and studied in your
absence. And if you want to maintain a certain tone or coolness of demeanor, this can be accomplished more easily in writing than in face-toface confrontations.
Perhaps the greatest problem for writers, at least on the conscious
level, concerns the audience who will read their writing: What do they already know? What will they be looking for? What are their biases, values,
and assumptions? How can I make sure they understand me as I intend for
them to? College instructors are the most common audience for college
writing; they make the assignments and read and evaluate the results. Instructors make especially difficult audiences because they are experts in
their subject and commonly know more about it than you do. Though you
may also write for other audiences such as yourself or classmates, your primary college audience remains the instructor who made the assignment.
The remainder of this chapter will examine the nature of the audiences
for whom you most commonly write in academic settings.
8
A Writer’s Choices
Writing for Teachers
When you are a student in high school, college, or graduate school, your
most common audiences are the instructors who have requested written
assignments and who will read and grade what you produce, an especially tough audience for most students.
First, teachers often make writing assignments with the specific intention to measure and grade you on the basis of what you write. Second,
teachers often think it their civic duty to correct every language mistake
you make, no matter how small. Third, teachers often ask you to write
about subjects you have no particular interest in—or worse, to write
about their favorite topics! Finally, teachers usually know more about
the subject of your paper than you do because they are the experts in the
field, which puts you in a difficult spot: You end up writing to prove how
much you know more than to share something new with them.
You can’t do much about the fact that teachers will use your writing to evaluate you in one way or another—they view it as part of their
job, just as they do when making assignments for your own good (but not
necessarily interest). However, as an individual writer, you can make
choices that will influence this difficult audience positively—especially if
you understand that most of your instructors are fundamentally caring
people.
In the best circumstances, teachers will make writing assignments
that give you a good start. They do this when they make clear their expectations for each assignment, when they provide sufficient time for
you to accomplish the assignment, when they give you positive and
pointed feedback while you are writing, and when they evaluate your papers according to criteria you both understand and agree with.
But regardless of how helpful you find your teacher, at some point
you have to plan and write the paper using the best resources you can
muster. Even before you begin to write—or as you think about the assignment—you can make some important mental decisions that will make
your actual drafting of most assignments easier:
1. Read the assignment directions carefully before you begin to
write. Pay particular attention to instruction words such as explain, define, or evaluate—terms that mean something quite different from one another. (See Chapter Eight for more information
on instruction words.) Most of the time when teachers develop
their assignments, they are looking to see not only that you can
demonstrate what you know, think logically, and write clearly,
they also want to see if you can follow directions.
2. Convince yourself that you are interested in writing this assignment. It’s better, of course, if you really are interested in writing
Audience
3.
4.
5.
6.
9
about Moby-Dick, the War of 1812, or photosynthesis, but sometimes this isn’t the case. If not, you’ve got to practice some
psychology on yourself because it’s difficult to write well when
you are bored. Use whatever strategies usually work for you,
but if those fail, try this: Locate the most popular treatment of
the subject you can find, perhaps in a current newsstand, the
Reader’s Guide to Periodical Literature, or the World Wide Web.
Find out what has made this subject newsworthy. Tell a friend
about it (Did you know that . . . ?). Write in your journal about
it, and see what kind of questions you can generate. There is a
good chance that this forced engagement will lead to the real
thing.
Make the assignment your own: Recast the paper topic in your
own words; reduce the size/scope of the topic to something manageable; or relate it to an issue with which you are already familiar. Modifying a writing task into something both interesting and
manageable dramatically increases your chances of making the
writing less superficial because you’re not biting off more than
you can chew and because the reader will read caring and commitment between the lines.
Try to teach your readers something. At the least, try to communicate with them. Seeing your task as instructional puts you in the
driver’s seat and gets you out of the passive mode of writing to
fulfill somebody else’s expectations. In truth, teachers are delighted when a student paper teaches them something they
didn’t already know; it breaks the boredom of reading papers that
are simple regurgitations of course information.
Look for a different slant. Teachers get tired of the same approach
to every assignment, so, if you are able, approach your topic from
an unpredictable angle. Be sure you cover all the necessary territory that you would if you wrote a more predictable paper, but
hold your reader’s attention by viewing the terrain somehow differently: locating the thesis in Moby-Dick from the whale’s point
of view; explaining the War of 1812 through a series of dispatches to the London Times from a British war correspondent;
describing photosynthesis through a series of simulated field
notebooks. (I provide these examples only to allude to what may
be possible; teacher, subject, and context will give you safer
guidelines.)
Consider your paper as a problem in need of a solution, or a question in need of an answer. The best way to start may be to try to
write out in one sentence what the problem or question actually is, and to continue with this method as more information
begins to reshape your initial formulation. For example, the
10
A Writer’s Choices
question behind this section is: What is the role of audience in
writing? The section itself is an attempt to answer this. (The advice my high school math teacher gave to help solve equations
may be helpful here: What am I given? What do I need to know?)
Approaching it this way may help you limit the topic, keep your
focus as you both research and write, and find both a thesis and a
conclusion.
7. View the paper topic from your teacher’s perspective. Ask yourself how completing this paper helps further course goals. Is it
strictly an extra-credit project in which anything goes? Or does
the paper’s completion also complete your understanding of the
course?
Each of these ideas suggests that you can do certain things psychologically to set up and gain control of your writing from the outset. Sometimes none of these suggestions will work, and the whole process will simply be a struggle; it happens to me in my writing more often than I care to
recount. But often one or two of these ideas will help you get started in
the right direction. In addition, it helps to consult the teacher with some
of your emerging ideas. Because the teacher made the assignment, he or
she can best comment on the appropriateness of your choices.
Writing for Classmates
Next to the teacher, your most probable school audience is your peers.
More and more teachers are finding value in asking students to read each
other’s writing, both in draft stages and in final form. You will most likely
be asked to share your writing with other students in a writing class,
where both composing and critiquing papers are everybody’s business.
Don’t be surprised if your history or biology teacher asks you to do the
same thing. But you could initiate such sharing yourself, regardless of
whether your teacher suggests it. The benefits will be worth it.
Writing to other students and reading their work is distinctly different from simply talking to each other; written communication demands
a precision and clarity that oral communication does not. When you share
your writing with a peer, you will be most aware of where your language
is pretentious or your argument stretched too thin. If you ask for feedback, an honest classmate will give it to you—before your teacher has to.
I think that students see pomp and padding as readily as teachers do and
are equally put off by it. What’s the point in writing pretentiously to a
classmate?
The following are some of the possible ways to make sharing drafts
profitable:
Audience
11
1. Choose people you trust and respect to read your draft. Offer to
read theirs in return. Set aside enough time (over coffee in the
snack bar?) to return drafts and explain your responses thoroughly to each other.
2. When possible, you decide when your draft is ready to share. I
don’t want someone to see a draft too early because I already
know how I am going to continue to fix it; other times, when I
am far along in the process, I don’t want a response that suggests that I start all over. There’s a balance here: it’s better that I
seek help on the draft before I become too fond of it, when I tend
to get defensive and to resist good ideas that might otherwise
help me.
3. Ask for specific responses on early drafts. Do you want an overall
reaction? Do you have a question about a specific section of your
paper? Do you want help with a particularly intricate argument?
Do you want simple editing or proofreading help? When you
share a draft and specify the help you want, you stay in control
of the process and lessen the risk that your readers will say something about your text that could make you defensive. (I’m very
thin-skinned about my writing—I could lose confidence fast if I
shared my writing with nonsupportive people who said anything
they felt like about my work.)
4. When you comment on someone else’s paper, use a pencil and be
gentle. Remember how you feel about red ink (bad associations
offset the advantages of the contrasting color), and remember
that ink is permanent. Most writers can’t help but see their writing as an extension of themselves. Writing in erasable pencil suggests rather than commands that changes might rather than
must be made. The choice to do so remains where it should, with
the writer rather than the reader.
5. Ask a friend with good language skills to proofread your paper before submission. Most readers can identify problems in
correctness, clarity, and meaning more easily in another person’s
work than in their own. When students read and respond to (or
critique) each other’s writing, they learn to identify problems in
style, punctuation, and evidence that also may occur in their own
writing.
Writing for Publication
Writing for publication is something you may not have to do while you’re
still in school. Conversely, you may have already done so in letters to
the newspaper editor or articles for a school paper. However, you may
12
A Writer’s Choices
have a teacher who wants you to experience writing for an audience that
doesn’t know who you are, as when class papers are posted on the Web.
When you write for an absent audience, there are a few things to keep in
mind:
1. Assume ignorance unless you know otherwise. If you assume
your audience knows little or nothing about what you are writing, you will be more likely to give full explanations of terms, concepts, and acronyms. Because you will never know exactly into
whose hands your published piece will fall, it’s always better to
over- than to under-explain. (This suggestion, of course, is also a
good one to use for known academic audiences. The cost of elaborating is your time. The cost of assuming too much will be a
lower grade.)
2. Provide a full context that makes it clear why you are writing. This is true in books, articles, reviews, and letters to the editor. You can often do this in a few sentences early in your piece,
or you can provide a footnote or endnote. Again, no harm is done
if you provide a little extra information, but there is a real loss to
your reader if you provide too little information.
3. Examine the tone, style, and format of the publisher before you
send your manuscript. You can learn a lot about the voice to
assume—or avoid—by looking at the nature of other pieces
printed in a publication.
4. Use the clearest and simplest language you can. I would not try
overly hard to sound erudite, urbane, or worldly; too often the result is pretension, pomposity, or confusion. Instead, let your most
comfortable voice work for you, and you’ll increase your chances
of genuinely communicating with your reader.
5. If you are worried about having your manuscript accepted by a
publisher, send a letter of inquiry to see what kind of encouragement the editor gives you. This gives you a better indication of
what the editor wants; it also familiarizes him or her with your
name, increasing your chances of a good reading.
Writing for Yourself
When you write strictly for yourself, your focus is primarily on your own
thoughts and emotions—you don’t need to follow any guidelines or rules
at all, except those that you choose to impose. In shopping lists, journals,
diaries, appointment books, class notebooks, text margin notes, and so on,
you are your own audience, and you don’t need to be especially careful,
organized, neat, or correct so long as you understand it yourself.
Audience
13
However, keep in mind your own intended purpose here: a shopping list only needs to be clear until the groceries are in, probably the
same day; however, many of these other personal forms may have future
uses that warrant a certain amount of clarity when your memory no longer serves. When checking your appointment book, it helps if planning
notes include names, times, and places you can clearly find six days later.
When reviewing class notebooks, it’s nice to be able to make sense of class
notes taken six weeks ago; when reading a diary or journal written six
years ago, you will be glad you included clarifying details.
Even when writing for the other audiences described in this chapter,
audiences carefully hypothesized or imagined in your head, you will write
better if you are pleased with your text. Your first audience, at least for important writing, must always be yourself. If the tone strikes you as just the
right blend of serious and comic, if the rhythms please your ear when read
aloud, and if the arguments strike you as elegant and the title as clever,
then your audience will more than likely feel the same.
SUGGESTIONS FOR JOURNAL WRITING
1. Think about the last paper you wrote. Describe any problems you
remember having to solve about purpose, situation, and audience.
2. For whom do you write most often, a friend? a parent? a teacher?
yourself? How do you write differently to this person than to somebody else?
3. Who was the toughest audience for whom you have ever had to
write? What made him or her so difficult? Would that still be true
today?
SUGGESTIONS FOR ESSAY WRITING
1. Write a short paper or letter that you shape to three distinctly different audiences. (Make these real so that you actually keep an individual in mind as you write.) Sandwich these three papers in between an introduction and a conclusion in which you explain
something interesting that you notice about writing to these different people.
2. Choose one assignment that you have already completed in one of
your classes. Reshape it as a short article for your school newspaper.
Before you do this, make observations in your journal about what
changes you intended to make and, after completing it, what
changes you actually did make.
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A Writer’s Choices
SUGGESTIONS FOR RESEARCH PROJECTS
1. INDIVIDUAL: Interview an instructor or other published writer in
your community and ask questions about how he or she solves composing problems. Transcribe this interview and share with classmates.
2. COLLABORATIVE: As a class, select a topic about which you would
like to know something more. Locate one or two sources of information (from the library or other people) and take good notes. As a
class, identify as many different possible audiences as you can think
of until the number of audiences equals the number of students in
class. Write one per slip of paper and place in a hat and let each
student draw an audience out of a hat. Each now write a paragraph
to the audience drawn making the information relevant to that particular audience. (Results could be read and evaluated by playing the
same game in reverse, with different students role-playing these different audiences for each other.)
Chapter Two
THE COMPOSING PROCESS
I start by writing down anything that comes to mind. I
write the paper as one big mass, kind of like freewriting.
Then I rewrite it into sentences. I keep rewriting it until it
finally takes some form.
—Brady
If I have the time before I begin to write (which I usually
don’t) I make an outline so I have something to follow. An
outline kind of gives me a guide to fall back on in case I
get stuck.
—Jennifer
Then I start in the middle because it’s easier than trying to
figure out where to start. The ending is easy because all
you do is repeat what you just said. After the middle and
the end, I try to write the beginning.
—Pat
Everybody writes a little differently from everybody else. Brady starts fast,
Jennifer outlines (when she has time), and Pat starts in the middle because
the beginning needs to be written last. Whose way is best? Trick question.
Whatever works best for you is the best way. However, experienced writers can teach us all a few tricks and perhaps make our best ways even
better. The next few pages outline a composing process that roughly describes the way many writers complete a piece of writing. This process
15
16
The Composing Process
includes several distinct phases, from exploring and researching ideas to
drafting, revising, and editing them—and perhaps publishing them to the
world.
While writing is never effortless, if you understand this messy, unpredictable, and amazing process, you will be a little less hard on yourself
when it doesn’t come out just right the first time. After more than thirty
years of trying to help people write better, I am convinced that some ways
of writing work for more people on more occasions than do others. Yes,
writing is a complex, variable, multifaceted process that refuses foolproof
formulations. Still, people have been writing since the dawn of recorded
history (the invention of writing IS the dawn of recorded history!), some
3,000 years, and during that time some habits and strategies have proved
more helpful than others. Learning what these are may save some time,
grief, energy, or perhaps all three.
EXPLORING
The earliest phases of writing are often explorations. In fact, writing is the
thinker’s way of exploring the world, inside and out. If you want to write
something—an assigned paper, a story for yourself—and you turn on your
computer or pick up a pen, you really can have it both ways, since writing
starts from ideas, and ideas start from writing. When you write, you explore your memory, texts, neighborhoods, the news, the Internet, and the
library. We could call this first phase of the composing process by many
different names, such as planning, inventing, discovering, or trying out, but
for our purposes here, exploring will work: you’ll know what I mean.
Writers explore topics and approaches to topics when they make
notes, start lists, generate outlines, write journal entries, and compose
rough drafts. They also discuss, E-mail, telephone, visit, and consult with
others. And they also explore less deliberately when they walk, jog, eat,
read, and wake up in the middle of the night thinking. The following sections treat, in detail, different ideas about exploring.
Write to Yourself
Forget about publishing your ideas to the world; publish them first to
yourself. Tell yourself what you’re thinking. Write out what’s on your
mind. Write it down and you’ll identify it, understand it, and leave behind a
memory of what it was. Any writing task can be accomplished in more
than one way, but the greatest gain will occur if you articulate in writing
these possibilities. Exploring also involves limiting your options, locating the best strategy for the occasion at hand, and focusing energy in the
most productive direction. It doesn’t matter if you make outlines or lists,
Drafting
17
freewrite or draw maps, or do these activities freehand or with a computer. What does seem to matter is getting the ideas out of your head in a
tangible way so you can look at them, see what they are and where else
they could go. My own most common way of finding and exploring an
idea is writing in my journal (see Chapter Four).
Plan to Plan
If you plan to explore a little before you actually start writing, the odds
are that in the long run, your writing will go better, be more directed,
purposeful, and efficient. Finding ideas is a back-and-forth process—it
starts in one place, ends up in another, and goes on all the time—so long
as you keep writing. This whole messy process can be both wonderful
and exhausting. Remember that when you are in the planning stages of
any writing task, finding and exploring ideas counts more than making
them neat or correct. Most commonly, I plan to plan by writing in my journal or on my computer for some small period of time almost every day.
I make planning a habit.
Move Back and Forth
While exploration comes first, it also comes second, third, and so on, for
as long as you keep working. No matter how carefully considered your
first ideas, the act of writing usually generates even better ones, all the
way through the writing process, as you think about why you are writing,
about what, and for whom. For example, when the purpose for writing is
vague, as it may be when someone else makes an assignment, you may
write to discover or clarify your purpose. (What is this assignment really
about, anyway?) When you want to communicate to someone else, but
aren’t sure how you’ll be received, try several different versions and figure
out for yourself which works best. When I return to revise a chapter draft,
I always explore and test the whole draft all over again, no matter how
finished I thought it was the last time I wrote.
DRAFTING
When I draft, I try to establish direction, the main form of the argument or
story, and some sense of beginning, middle, and end. When I revise, I pay
attention to getting the whole paper just right: organizing the material,
supporting my statements, getting down essentially what I want to say.
When I edit, I pay attention to the smaller details of writing, to getting the
particular sentences and words just right, working on matters of style, precision, diction, and correct documentation.
18
The Composing Process
Start Writing to Start Writing
Write your way to motivation, knowledge, and thesis. No matter what your
subject, use language to find out more about it. What do you already know
about it? What do you believe? Why do you care? (Or why don’t you?)
Where could you find more information? This writing will help in two
ways: First, it will cause you to think connected thoughts about the subject
for a sustained period of time, a far more powerful, positive, and predictable process than staring at the ceiling or falling asleep worrying about
it. Second, it will create a written record from which to conduct further
digs into your subject and to prompt your memory and help you continue
a thought. (I keep such records in my journal, others keep them on index
cards or in pocket notebooks. It doesn’t matter where; what matters is
keeping them.)
Make an Outline and Promise Yourself Not to Stick to It
Outlines are helpful as starters and prompters, but they are harmful if they
prevent further growth or new directions in your draft. I don’t always use
outlines when I write, especially on short projects, trusting instead that I
can hold my focus by a combination of private incubation and constant rereading of the text before me. When I do outline, what proves most helpful is the very process of generating the outline in the first place. If it’s a
good outline, I quickly internalize its main features and go from there. I seldom stick religiously to the formal method of outlining taught me in seventh grade, but like many writers before me, I find an outline useful to fall
back on when I get stuck. When I do make a detailed outline, I find it easier to see coordinate and subordinate relationships in my project, although I usually discover these after I’ve been writing a while and not in
my initial outline. The alternation of writing/outlining/writing/outlining
often works well because both the outlining and the writing are acts of
discovery for me.
Plan to Throw Your First Page Away
Once you actually begin to compose a draft, don’t lock yourself into keeping the first words you produce. In fact, it may be helpful to deliberately
view each first paragraph or page as a throwaway. The absolutely worst
part of writing for me is starting, staring at a blank page or monitor. If I can
just get some words down, the task looks started, and I relax a bit. Once I
start, my words come a lot easier. I shift from the slow first gear into progressively higher gears as my thoughts begin to accelerate. When this happens, my writing not only comes more easily, it’s better writing. In this
Researching
19
sense, I agree with Brady (above), who started out fast to create an initial
mess to refine later.
Learn to Write with a Word Processor
Word processors make writing easier, primarily by allowing you to write
words electronically on a screen before you print them out in ink on
paper. The advantage is that you can move language around as you see fit,
until it is just right. Because I rewrite virtually everything (except notes
and journal entries), word processors allow my writing to be more careful,
organized, and precise than on lined pads of paper. If you use a word processor, try to get in the habit of composing first drafts on the screen; that
will save you a lot of time in the long run and help you to see your first
draft as primarily experimental.
RESEARCHING
When you write, you need content as well as direction. Unless you are
writing completely from memory, you need to locate ideas and information from which to start and, later on, with which to support and convince. Remember, you essentially do research whenever you pose questions and then go looking for answers. It’s virtually impossible to write a
decent critical, analytical, or argumentative paper without doing some
research and reporting it accurately. Even personal and reflective essays
can benefit by finding additional factual information (journal entries,
photographs, interviews) to substantiate and intensify what you remember. In other words, research is a natural part of most people’s writing process—and like exploration it happens at all stages of the process, from first
to last.
Newspaper and television reporters conduct research when they
investigate background sources for a story on political, economic, or social
issues. Historians, philosophers, and lawyers research in texts to locate
past records, data, and precedents. Scientists, engineers, physicians, and
psychologists research in laboratories to find new answers to puzzling
questions. Sociologists, anthropologists, political scientists, educators, and
social workers research in communities, neighborhoods, and schools to
find practical answers to difficult questions. In every case, these researchers report their findings in writing. It may be time for you to begin to think
this way, too.
Research Texts
You do a form of research every time you write analyses or interpretations
of texts—reading and rereading is the research. You also research when
20
The Composing Process
you compare one text to another or track down the dates of this or that
historical event in encyclopedias, dictionaries, and reference works. And
you do text-based research when you scan a CD-ROM disk or log onto the
Internet—your textual and graphical printouts become useful, hard data.
When you use text-based research carefully (and here I don’t mean stringing together a bunch of quotes because they’re handy) you add a whole
extra dimension of credibility to whatever you are writing about. When
you add strong quotations from named sources, you also add life and energy to your writing.
Research Sites
You can do observational and experimental research in chemistry and
physics laboratories, and on geology and biology field trips. Any place that
you visit is a potential research site, capable of providing information and
evidence to use in your writing: museums, galleries, concert halls, stadiums, college offices, professional buildings, corporate headquarters, industrial plants, lakefront developments, junkyards, local malls—the list is endless. In writing a paper on lake pollution, go to the lake, describe the water,
the shoreline, the activities you see there; in writing about your summer
experience working at Dunkin’ Donuts, go to the nearest store and take
notes on details you may have forgotten. (For more information on research techniques, see Chapters Nine–Twelve.)
REVISING
Plan to rewrite everything, more than once. Good writing is rewriting,
reseeing your first words and determining whether or not they do the job
you want them to do. The more drafts you are able to manage, the better
your final piece is likely to be. If you’ve got a week to do a given assignment, start something in writing the first night and see where it goes; plan
to reread and return to it as often as time allows. If you compose in longhand, write in pencil, double space, on only one side of lined paper—this
lets you add and subtract from your initial draft with a minimum of recopying, and allows you to cut out and move around whole portions of
your text.
Attend First to the Larger Problems
Thesis, organization, and support should be rethought first. It’s simply
more efficient to spend time getting your whole paper in order before
you turn your attention to the somewhat smaller matters of style. It’s
Editing
21
more efficient because you don’t want to perfect sentences and paragraphs that will be deleted in a later revision.
Write Your Introduction Last
Here I agree with Pat (above), who plans to start in the middle. Of course,
if you are able to introduce your piece before you write it, do so. But if
you have been finding new ideas and combinations of ideas as you’ve
been going along, it’s unlikely that any introduction written first will still
do the job. I often try to write introductions first, to point me in a certain
direction, but by the time I’m finished, I always need to write new ones.
Seek a Response to Your Writing
Once you have written a passable draft, one you feel is on the right track
but not finished, ask a classmate or friend to read and respond to it. Specify the kind of feedback that would be most helpful. Does the argument
hold up throughout the whole paper? Do I use too many examples?
Which ones should I cut? Does my conclusion make sense? Sometimes,
when I am quite pleased with my draft, I simply ask a friend to proofread it
for me, not wanting at that point to be told about holes in my argument or
redundancy in my text.
EDITING
To finish well, you edit. You edit in the later stages of writing to recheck
your whole text, to make sure it reads as you intend it to read. You want
to see that everything works, from the clarity of ideas to the logic of the
paragraphs, the vitality of sentences, the precision of words, and the correctness and accuracy of everything, from facts and references to spelling
and punctuation. Whether you have written three, five, or ten drafts, it’s
the last one you want to be perfect—or as near perfect as possible. Many
writers edit first to please themselves; at the same time, they always edit
for readers—for some imagined but distant audience—hoping to please
them as well.
While it makes more rational sense to edit after you have composed
and revised and dealt with larger conceptual issues, in my own composing
I often violate that step and edit as I go, working a sentence or paragraph
over and over until I get it just right, sometimes feeling as if I can’t move
on until I articulate a thought a certain way. I think computers, especially,
allow that easy blurring of the composing, revising, and editing processes.
Though I treat editing here as a later stage in writing, it matters less when
you do it than that you do it.
22
The Composing Process
Edit for Yourself
Make sure the voice, the beliefs, and the language are yours. Make sure,
first, that you sound right to you, so that you represent yourself honestly
and accurately. Then think about your intended readers, those that you
imagine will ask questions, frown, smile, read carefully, and understand.
When I write well, I can tell it before my audience lets me know.
Read Aloud
Ask of your phrases, sentences, and paragraphs, does this sound right,
natural, conversational? Does it sound like my voice? When I read aloud
this sentence or passage, is the rhythm pleasing to my ear? If not, what
word or words are out of tune? More than anything, I edit for rhythm so
my language sounds good to my ear.
Attend to Sentences
Ask of your sentence, is this the best way to state this idea or ask this question? Would another term or phrase be more appropriate or powerful or
accurate? Have I said what I mean as directly as I want to? Do my sentences end emphatically, with the strongest point at the end? Do I want
them to? Can I replace abstract nouns with concrete nouns? Can I replace
passive verbs with action verbs? Do all my words contribute toward my
meaning? Answering these questions is editing.
Write with Titles and Subtitles
Good titles help you view your writing as a whole, and good titles catch
readers’ attention, pique their curiosity, and describe what your writing is
about. Subtitles (subordinate titles, or subheadings) are words or phrases
that stand for a set of ideas or a section of a paper; write them in the
margins and let them help you structure your paper for both you and the
reader. Subtitles do two things at once: they serve as categorizers for concepts, and they operate as transitions from one concept to the next. I try
to do this as early as I can, but I find both the main title and the smaller
subsections most clearly when I revise. (You see that I use many subtitles
in this book. Are they helpful to you?)
Proofread
At the very end, just before your manuscript is handed in or mailed,
proofread the revised and edited pages to make sure there are no errors in spelling, punctuation (especially commas), noun/verb agreement,
Editing
23
paragraphing, typing, formatting, and the like. Use your computer spellchecker, read each line using a ruler, and share the writing with a trusted
friend. In addition, check to